Finn inhales, and I hate we are in this position. “Noah is my husband.”
“Your fake husband.”
The words echo through the apartment. Are Finn and I that obvious?
Finn inhales. “Our marriage is real.”
“You mean, your fake marriage is real.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Madison.”
“I saw you both. You didn’t know each other. It doesn’t make sense.”
I should leave. Clearly this conversation isn’t meant for me. And yet my feet have turned into trees, and I can no more leave Finn’s presence than trees can walk away from their roots.
“We had a good time together,” Finn says finally.
“You mean when he threw up? Or when he disgraced the Blizzards through his appalling skating?”
Every word scrapes against my soul, and I lean further against the wall. I so don’t want them to see me listening to this conversation.
“You don’t skate, Madison. Besides, a puck hit his skate. It could have happened to anyone.”
“I didn’t come to hear you lie to me, Finn Carrington. I’m your friend, remember?”
“I remember.”
“I thought you could use one right now.”
Finn rakes his hand through his hair. “That’s nice.”
She swivels toward him, and even from here, I can see the expansiveness of her Sydney Sweeney bosom, and the tininess of her waist. She’s gorgeous.
Her voice turns husky, and she wraps her arms around Finn’s neck. “Besides, I thought we were going to have a sleepover.”
“You want a sleepover now?”
She leans her head back, and her dark locks whoosh behind her. She is sexiness. “Fuck me, Finn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Finn
Madison looks amazing, and her floral scent wafts around me. Her dark hair bounces, and her black lashes swoop up and down. She has sexiness down. She flashes me a knowing look, and glossy coral lips swerve into a smirk.
We’ve been flirting for months. We’ve been building our tension, and now she wants sex. It would be easy to wrap my hands around her tiny waist, lift her onto the kitchen counter, and have the sort of wild sex she implied.
“I’ll pour you a drink,” she says, her voice husky.
It would be easy to go along with everything she says. It would be easy to whisper the secrets about what Noah and I truly are to her, so I have someone in the world who knows what I’m going through.
I would finally know if her nipples are tawny or pink peaks, and I would finally know what landing strip she has down there.
I would work off all the stress surging in my body and remind myself that I do not have a crush on a man.
She smirks, and I know she thinks I’m going to say yes. I know she thinks we’re going to be kissing in about three seconds, and I’m going to be fucking her in the time it takes to remove her panties.
But I’m not going to sleep with her with Noah in the next room, and to be honest, I’m not sure I want to. Madison hasn’t been on my mind.
